An Old Story
by The JohhnyMcKilt Productions
Summary: Oneshot.An overdose of Coke, power faliure, ghost stories and lawn access through the kitchen. All perfect when you play them right.


A/N: …dedicated to my very first HER, my twin brother and the weather in the Philippines…enjoy!xD

**An Old Story**

_**Oneshot**_

Cool mists wafted over Oliver's face as he opened the immense refrigerator in the Jurgen Castle's kitchen. He winced. The entire home was already very chilly because of the fierce downpour outside; the sudden added burst of cool wasn't what he needed.

Lavender lilac eyes widened in pleasant surprise as he spotted two dozen cans of Coke.

Since the rain was making everyone sleepy, he wanted an energy boost and took two. Fun fact: Coke is addictive in the right place at the right time.

Enrique was shuffling along the brightly lit bedroom looking like a huge colorful rice ball with a head, as he had draped himself with numerous blankets. Being born and raised in a sun-kissed capital, the cold was something to get used to. A green being suddenly bounced past him.

"Oliver?" the blonde turned about with difficulty. "What're you—"

"OhhiEnri!Whatthehellareyoudoing?Youlookabsolutelysilly!LookatmeI'mnotcoldatallandthat'scozIwalkaround.HeydidyouknowthatRobert'skeepingabunchofCokeinhisfridgeandIdrunksomeb'cozIwassleepyandnowI'mnotsleepyandI'mwarm!IlikeCokenow."

The Italian's jaw had dropped open at his best friend's greeting.

"Exactly how many cans of Coke did you get?"

"Y'seethereweretwentyfoursoIthoughtheckthat'salotsoaftermyfirsttwoIkeptgettingandgettingandgettingand—"

"Oli!" Enrique tried to stop the overwhelming tide of words by raising his arms, which of course, failed. "How many?"

The greenette blinked at him for a moment. "Twenty."

"WHAT?"

"C'monRiqueit'sfun!YougetarealhighanditcanlastforHOURS!"

The quilt-bound blonde frowned. "And then you'll get a serious low, you know."

"Butthat'sgonnabeinalongtimeandmaybebythenI'dHAVEtosleepanywaysointhemeantimelet'shavefun!"

"Fun?" Enrique could not fathom how. "B-but it's freezing!"

"Thenwecanrunaroundnakedtillourassesturnblue!...Awc'monEnrique!I'mabsolutelybored!" Oliver added when his best friend tried to weasel out by doing the puppy-dog look.

"Alright!" the Italian surrendered. "Might be more effective in keeping me warm anyway."

--

Rich, sloppy retches resonated in Robert's private bathroom. The German sighed and massaged his temples as if it would make his pseudo-migraine go away.

"Johnny…" he said as he gently patted the heaving back of his best friend, who was bending over the bowl. "I DID warn you about consuming my uncle's best brandy."

"You weren't kidding when you said that thing was strong…" groaned the redhead.

"Feeling better?" Robert asked kindly as the other straightened up and washed his face.

"I'm fine, thanks." Johnny replied and yanked open the bathroom door.

"YaAaAaAH! Oliver wait! Slow down!"

Two stark naked teens whizzed past the elder Majestics with incredible speed.

Their purple-haired team captain was left wide-eyed, whereas the Scot beside him frowned and promptly returned to emptying the contents of his stomach.

--

Dingdong.

Dingdong.

Dingdongdingdongdingdongdingdong.

"Oliver no! Don't answer the door!" Enrique hissed as the pair finally arrived in the receiving area.

The hyper boy could not be stopped and soon a dull thud was heard as the blonde tackled him to the carpeted floor.

Miguel and the Barthez Battalion, who were outside in thick coats, raised their eyebrows as the double oak doors swung open to reveal a nude Oliver and Enrique, who had their manhoods covered with two couch pillows.

"Hello," greeted the Italian breathlessly. "Pleasant surprise!"

Their fellow Europeans exchanged looks.

"I TOLD you they were doing something fun…" said Claude.

…meanwhile.

Something brown, red and adhesive created a frightening 'bog' on the bathroom window.

The purple-haired German inside, who had been preoccupied with making Johnny feel better, screamed like Minnie Mouse at the sight of a squashed, leering face.

Without thinking, a shampoo bottle flew, crashed through the window and knocked out whoever it was behind it.

"What the hell was that?" asked the redhead and both boys looked out the gaping hole they made and down three floors below.

It took a while to realize it was Daichi Sumeragi.

"Hi, can I come in?" he called.

"No!" Robert exclaimed incredulously and threw a couple more bottles at him.

They bounced off the Jap's poofy, red-orange hair. He looked unnerved by what had hit him.

"Aw please!"

"No!" A potted plant was next to be flung out in the harsh rain.

Again it gave a painful-sounding 'tok' but Daichi didn't seem to mind. Robert frowned.

"Doesn't that hurt?"

"Nope," answered the tan redhead below. "Why won't you let me in?"

The two elder Majestics exchanged looks as they thought of an excuse.

"Because you're wet," said the Scot chucked him an umbrella. "It's a lot colder in here than out there and you'd get sick."

Daichi refused to hear the rest though and began to scale the wall.

"Daichi!" pleaded the purple-haired noble, still quite shaken from what he had seen. Soon, an inflatable canoe slowed the Jap's progress.

"Why do you keep a canoe under your bathroom sink?" queried Johnny.

His best friend shrugged. "The house has been known to flood during downpours, but then now it's fixed and we won't have to worry…unless someone opens a door too long."

But the last bit was drowned out by a sharp scream from the person he was talking to. Daichi was crawling in the window.

"There's the front ENTRANCE, Sumeragi!" bellowed the German, followed by a brilliant crash of splintering wood, chipping concrete, breaking glass and peeling wallpaper.

Tyson Kinomiya found the poor Asian redhead out on the wet grass crushed by a medicine cabinet.

"Daichi what are you doing?!" yelped the bluenette, clad in a thick coat and boots. "Honestly, every time we take you somewhere, you're like a caged monkey let lose in a gas station!"

Holding his umbrella with one hand and yanking the broken shelf off with the other, he pulled Daichi upright and looked about for what could have caused this.

"OI!" Johnny called from three floors above. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Tyson squinted in the rain. "My team and the Barthez decided to crash your place because we were bored back in Madrid. But it seems you've hit bad weather!" he called back.

"Bad weather hit us!" Robert replied good-humoredly. "Did you say you've got company?"

"They're at the door," said the bluenette.

The rich pair looked puzzledly at each other.

"The doorbell rang a while ago…" said the Scot. "Who could've answered that?"

"Oliver and Enrique," said the purple-haired man, still immersed in thought. "No wait, they can't! They're naked!"

And both teens bolted out the bathroom faster than Yuuri Shibuya could summarize the next episode of Kyo Kara Maou.

--

Rain poured, thunder roared; lightning flashed, and skies rumbled well into the afternoon.

The residents of the Jurgen Castle, as well as their guests, were huddled in a huge couch in the living room. The power had gone out so it was terribly cold. The generator took a hike, and everyone was consuming enough hot chocolate and peanuts to last them three days incase the rain got worse.

Thank Kami-sama Tyson and Daichi were cooperating.

Rei and Max were telling the group ghost stories from their home countries. The Barthez Battalion shared one or two especially hair-raising ones. Kenny's shaking was warming up the gigantic blanket they were all clumped in and Enrique was bored to the bone.

He felt roasting hot because he hadn't dressed yet and the press of bodies around him added unnecessary insulation.

Oliver had disappeared to somewhere, and believe it or not, the blonde wanted to be with him. Perhaps the Frenchman in his perky state didn't want to be cooped up with a bunch of dead-lazy people in one couch.

The nude playboy slipped away quietly. As he entered the increasingly darkening hallway, he heard cheers erupt from the chamber he left. Kai had brought vodka.

He shook his head with a smile and entered the shadows to look for his best friend.

--

Enrique's search took him to the second floor where the largest bathroom in the house was. In the feeble rays of sun that could penetrate thick gray clouds, he saw Oliver standing by the window, looking like he was in the middle of choosing a shampoo from the numerous bottles that lined the tub.

He was already clutching a bar of soap.

"Are you going to take a bath?" asked the blonde.

"Yeah!" the greenette replied with a brilliant smile. "Want to join me?"

Tan cheeks flushed. "I'd love to if we could. There isn't any power so we don't have a heater."

There was an impatient click of a tongue. "Whoever said I wanted a hot bath?"

Enrique grinned sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck. "You're kidding, right? A bath in water colder than the one I find in your blast chiller? …erm, I think the pump's broken too…"

Oliver laughed. "Oh loosen up, 'Rique! Come on…"

The French boy promptly chose a shampoo with the same scent as his soap, grabbed his best friend's hand and dragged him down the stairs and in the Jurgen kitchen.

Robert never really liked those industrial-sized kitchens one would find in hotels and restaurants. His kitchen looked like a large version of a quaint, homey cooking space one may find in an average Tuscan home.

Two suctioned, glass sliding doors separated the snob and the playboy from the dark, wet outside world. A pale, careful hand firmly planted itself on one of the panes and pushed.

Lone, joyful screams of mirth as wind and rain met their unexpected guests went unnoticed as they were drowned out by screams of terror coming from the living room.

Being out in the rain stark naked was truly and exhilarating experience. It summed up total freedom, bliss and a mind-blowing massage, given that the rain one was out in poured in torrents and lashed in icy sheets.

Within minutes, Oliver and Enrique were drenched to the very core, tearing their throats out to overpower the roar of rain as they gamboled in the yard.

Panting and flushed, the greenette bounced to the older boy and gave him a playful nudge so they could begin for what they came for.

The Italian chuckled amusedly as soaked, grass-hued bangs hid half of his best friend's face. Cold wet, fingers gently ghosted over paper pale skin to tuck loose locks behind an ear.

Large, lavender-lilac eyes widened slightly as they gazed into summer blue, no longer a stark contrast to the sky for they had darkened to indigo with lust.

Pray tell, can the hyperactivity induced by 20 cans of Coke be contagious?

...say...airborne?

Hints of a smile made themselves known on the French boy's lips. Instinctively, they pressed closer to each other for body heat. Unwittingly, disturbed residents of places unwanted came in contact, and sent a single shocking bolt of electricity coursing through the delicate frames of both younger Majestics.

A small gasp of surprise that came from Oliver was unheard in nature's noise. Enrique inched closer and took advantage of the slight openness of his mouth to consume its contents unlimitedly.

Small feet slipped a bit on the glistening, soaked blades of grass as the greenette made effort to keep himself standing. His head was unreliable at the moment, it was stunned to incoherence since he and his best friend came in contact.

Something slimy and fragrant ran down his back, but immediately vanished as the rain vanquished it. What was left were strong palms mapping relaxing strokes on his back. The French boy purred through the bond, to which the Italian responded with a delightful shiver.

"Come on," Enrique whispered, barely inaudible. "The rain's killing me. Turn around so I can hit you..."

What he said had no relation to each other in any way but Oliver obliged with an incomprehensible grunt. His body never felt so peaceful before; it could pass as drugged. To prove that, he almost fell forward when he turned about.

Frisky phalanges toyed with the young chef's lean stomach and everything else it found there. The greenette involuntarily jerked as a tingling sensation like when one needed to pee grew in the pit of his abdomen.

"En-ri-que…" was forced out trembling lips as those same frisky fingers ventured deeper to the sanctuary where no man trekked before.

Pushing past a forest of short, green and curly, curious digits snuffed out their prize meticulously. How could they miss it? The entire length was huge and as stiff as a post. Its hypersensitive tip was reacting like crazy to every drop that scorned it, and was numb at the same time from the cold…until a surprisingly warm, soft hand ushered it into comfort.

The knuckles of the elder blonde's other had slowly turned white as they fought to support Oliver's weight by gripping his elbow. The younger greenette's own free hand was also playing a part in keeping its owner upright by grabbing onto the Italian's thigh, which was so wet that skidding was inevitable.

Oliver grit his teeth to keep himself from crying out as the hand that held his manhood captive moved up and down…very slowly.

"En…please…"

Breath hitched in his throat as the dominating tan limb pumped.

"Enrique…ENRIQUE!"

--

"Hey, I'm just going to get a glass of water," said Rei, standing up. "Hot choco, peanuts and vodka don't exactly have a soothing effect on your throat. Er…where's the kitchen?" added the neko-jin as he looked about and met infinite darkness.

"Take the West Wing, turn right at the first corner and go straight down the hall," said Johnny,

The party saw the Asian hesitate.

"Scared?" grinned Miguel.

"Yes you jerk! I'm petrified!" answered Rei heatedly, hands balling into fists at his sides.

"Want someone to come with you?" Max asked kindly.

"I want Kai!" said the Chinese teen.

Mathilda giggled and the Russian bluenette sighed.

"If you were really a cat, Kon, you'd be clinging to a ceiling fan," said the latter, getting to his feet and accompanying the younger boy into the dark halls.

Of course the pair had to keep talking to know if the other was still there.

"Why aren't there any confounded windows in here?" Kai snapped. "It's the ground floor for crying out loud! And aren't there other people besides the Majestics who should be here?"

"Speaking of other people," said Rei mildly. "Have you seen Oliver and Enrique?"

The elder's shrug went unseen. "Why?"

"They weren't with us the entire afternoon…" a gasp suddenly followed and Kai jumped, quite thankful that the other didn't see.

"What if they were caught by _Mananaggal _Atang, the lady who splits in two and eats children?!" speculated the neko-jin, having been thoroughly freaked out by THAT story.

The bluenette let out a growl of annoyance. "That story didn't really happen, Rei. Those two may have just—aw shit!"

The small amount of sun streaming through the barrier between the kitchen and the yard provided enough light for the pair to notice the cooking chamber was flooded ankle high.

"_Kakogo chyorta—_?!" Kai hissed, shaking water of his shoes as Rei cautiously waded to the fridge. "What could've caused this?"

"Oi Kai!" said the Chinese teen, silhouetted against the light. "This sliding door is wide open!"

The slate haired teen's head shot up and wine-red eyes widened.

Rei cocked his head to one side at the expression on his companion's face and turned to look.

It was sort of hard to make out Oliver and Enrique in the rain.

"Son of a bitch," Kai breathed. "And WE were sitting in the living room exchanging ghost stories?! I'm losing my touch…"

"Listen," said the Asian teen. "Stay put and I'll get the others."

--

"There's no need to shout," Enrique said quietly and grinned. "I'm right here…"

Oliver exhaled sharply as if to laugh. "_Salopard Giancarlo…_"

But before he could even finish saying the blonde's surname, he cried out richly. Hot jets of thick essence burst from his aching length and spoiled the hand that caressed it and stained the grass that have witnessed.

Carefully, gaining ground, both boys shifted into a more comfortable position. The greenette still supported himself by hanging on to the playboy and he in turn, left the former's joystick quite suddenly to hold him up by cradling his stomach.

It was time for Enrique's other hand to shine.

A slender digit tried to enter from behind and it was met with fierce resistance. Oliver tensed. The first was followed by as second, complimented with a mini-stream of rain. In an attempt to get through, the two fingers opened slightly.

The Frenchman jerked as if he were hit by an electric shock. "Oh shit."

A third attempt proved impossible to tolerate and without warning, Enrique entered through the backdoor.

Needless to say, the ordeal was painful, and of course this is an understatement.

All the lube they had, they gave to the grass…as if it were of any use. The rain was left to be of some help, apparently it failed terribly. If there had been any bird on any rooftop, they would've flown away at identical, arousing screams from the Jurgen yard.

The playboy went in and out rhythmically, hitting a certain feel-good spot again and again, then gave his lover his all and THAT felt good.

Enrique and Oliver collapsed on the grass, exhausted. The seemingly indifferent storm raged on, battering their bodies…until amidst its roars they heard cheers.

"Wha--?" Oliver raised his head. "Yipe!"

In a flash, he grabbed his best friend's hand and they back up on a bush.

"GODAMN YOU ALL!"

**END**

A/N: …hope you liked that! …tell me what you think…enjoy!xD and ciAo…


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